In His Sights (An Eve Hope FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

By Kate Bold

FBI Special Agent Eve Hope can’t escape the shadow of her notorious serial killer father—though he is jailed, the puzzle of the loving father of her childhood haunts her. When new victims are found killed in their homes, the case eerily echoes her father’s, and Eve is forced to face her worst memories. Can she stop this new killer before he claims a new victim—while saving herself from being swallowed by her past?

“This is an excellent book… When you start reading, be sure you don’t have to wake up early!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

IN HIS SIGHTS is BOOK #2 in a new series by #1 bestselling mystery and suspense author Kate Bold, whose books have received over 600 five star ratings and reviews.

A page-turning and harrowing crime thriller featuring a brilliant and tortured FBI agent, the EVE HOPE series is a riveting mystery, packed with non-stop action, suspense, twists and turns, revelations, and driven by a breakneck pace that will keep you flipping pages late into the night. Fans of Rachel Caine, Teresa Driscoll, and Robert Dugoni are sure to fall in love.

Future books in the series are also available.

“This book moved very fast and every page was exciting. Plenty of dialogue, you absolutely love the characters, and you were rooting for the good guy throughout the whole story… I look forward to reading the next in the series.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Kate did an amazing job on this book and I was hooked from the first chapter!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“I really enjoyed this book. The characters were authentic, and I see the bad guys as something we hear about daily on the news... Looking forward to book 2.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“This was a really good book. The main characters were real, flawed and human. The story went along quickly and wasn't mired in too many unnecessary details. I really enjoyed it.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Alexa Chase is headstrong, impatient, but most of all brave with a capital B. She never, repeat never, backs down until the bad guys are put where they belong. Clearly five stars!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Captivating and riveting serial murder with a twist of the macabre… Very well done.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“WOW what a great read! Talk about a diabolical killer! Really enjoyed this book. Looking forward to reading others by this author as well.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Page turner for sure. Great characters and relationships. I got into the middle of this story and couldn’t put it down. Looking forward to more from Kate Bold.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Hard to put down. It has an excellent plot and has the right amount of suspense. I really enjoyed this book.”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

“Extremely well written, and well worth buying and reading. I can't wait to read book two!”
—Reader review for The Killing Game

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kate Bold
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094330372

Book preview

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I N   H I S   S I G H T S

(An Eve Hope FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

K a t e   B o l d

Kate Bold

Bestselling author Kate Bold is author of the ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising six books (and counting); the CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising eight books (and counting); the HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising seven books (and counting); the KAYLIE BROOKS PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting); and the EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER series, comprising five books (and counting)

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Kate loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.kateboldauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

Copyright © 2023 by Kate Bold. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Neil Lockhart, used under license from Shutterstock.com.

BOOKS BY KATE BOLD

ALEXA CHASE SUSPENSE THRILLER

THE KILLING GAME (Book #1)

THE KILLING TIDE (Book #2)

THE KILLING HOUR (Book #3)

THE KILLING POINT (Book #4)

THE KILLING FOG (Book #5)

THE KILLING PLACE (Book #6)

ASHLEY HOPE SUSPENSE THRILLER

LET ME GO (Book #1)

LET ME OUT (Book #2)

LET ME LIVE (Book #3)

LET ME BREATHE (Book #4)

LET ME FORGET (Book #5)

LET ME ESCAPE (Book #6)

CAMILLE GRACE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOT ME (Book #1)

NOT NOW (Book #2)

NOT WELL (Book #3)

NOT HER (Book #4)

NOT NORMAL (Book #5)

NOT AGAIN (Book #6)

NOT SAFE (Book #7)

NOT TODAY (Book #8)

HARLEY COLE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

NOWHERE SAFE (Book #1)

NOWHERE LEFT (Book #2)

NOWHERE TO RUN (Book #3)

NOWHERE LIKE THIS (Book #4)

NOWHERE GIRL (Book #5)

NOWHERE TO HIDE (Book #6)

NOWHERE CERTAIN (Book #7)

KAYLIE BROOKS PYSCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE THRILLER

LAST BREATH (Book #1)

LAST CHANCE (Book #2)

LAST WISH (Book #3)

LAST SHOT (Book #4)

LAST MISTAKE (Book #5)

EVE HOPE FBI SUSPENSE THRILLER

IN HIS BLOOD (Book #1)

IN HIS SIGHTS (Book #2)

IN HIS REACH (Book #3)

IN HIS MIND (Book #4)

IN HIS WAY (Book #5)

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

Mary sat alone at her small dining table, looking out at the desolate suburban backyard, and wondered for the hundredth time if she'd made the wrong decision. She hated being alone. And yet, here she was, staring at the sole candle on her birthday cake, the only attendee of the saddest party of the year.

Mary Shetland, no longer Mary Winters, sighed, making the candle flicker and dance. Had the divorce been her fault? She had run it through her mind a million times, recounting past conversations, examining the minutia of every argument. She couldn't understand how things had gone so wrong.

And yet, things had gone wrong all the same.

She had been so happy the day she and her husband Nathan were married. They fell in love quickly and married quickly. In those early months after their wedding, they had talked about the future with excitement and love.

They'd been hopeful, young, and optimistic. They decided to wait a little while to have children, wanting to build a good foundation first. And they were good together. It seemed like everything was going perfectly.

Shortly after their third anniversary, things started going downhill. The change seemed to happen overnight, but the difference was impossible to ignore. They fought constantly and slept in separate beds more nights than not.

The arguments hadn’t been over anything serious—domestic squabbles that were goaded into screaming matches. Mary had no idea the fights would end their marriage. Only in hindsight could she see that the divorce had been a long time coming.

As the thrill of the honeymoon faded, the frequency and intensity of their fights increased. It had only taken a few years for the cracks to show, and the chasm grew silently and steadily between them. By the time Mary realized she was married to the wrong man, she’d become too attached to let him go. She’d clung and clawed until, with gut-wrenching finality, he’d presented her with divorce papers and fled to Oregon, taking everything he owned with him.

Mary took a bite of cake, chewed, and swallowed, pretending she didn't notice the sluggish tear rolling down her own cheek. Her lip quivered with woe and self-pity as she dug the fork into vanilla frosting.

Then she heard the noise.

Mary sat up straight, panic racing through her. No one else was supposed to be in the house.

Hello? she called out, her voice shaking.

There it was again: a definite creak, as if somebody was moving slowly along tired floorboards.

There was somebody inside the house.

Mary stood up quickly and reached for her phone. The screen lit up, but to her horror, the loading bar of a system update crawled across her screen. She hadn’t installed a landline and probably never would. When would she ever possibly need a landline? She cursed modern technology and got to her feet.

She eyeballed the doors. All were closed, as far as she could see. Had she locked them and turned all the bolts?

Before the divorce, this was when she would have handed matters over to her husband and his trusty baseball bat. Now that she was alone, she realized that Nathan had been her default security plan. Except the alarm system, she didn’t have a security plan in place.

Her panicky mind struggled to remember what the workman had told her about the manual panic button on her home security system. She couldn't even remember where the interface had been installed. Damn this new house and damn the divorce.

Hello? she called out louder, hurrying into the hallway where her expensive security system's interface was inlaid. She squinted at the buttons, which glowed like an alien control panel in a sci-fi movie. She pressed the button that was supposed to call for a security patrol to be dispatched to her doorstep. She couldn't remember the special coded combination that dialed 9-1-1.

The panic button on the console, the installer told her, sent a call to the security company, not the police. This was to avoid accidental 9-1-1 dials. The system would auto-dial 9-1-1 in case of a break-in. She was probably just imagining things.

But then she heard the sound again, exactly like careful footsteps.

Mary's blood ran cold in her veins, her skin tingling on pins and needles. She searched desperately for a weapon, but all her cutlery was still boxed up. She owned no guns, and Nathan had kept his bat. She reached into one of the open, moving boxes and picked up a hefty brass bookend, gripping it like a club. It would have to do.

Hello? she called out again, her voice shaking. She made her way to the living room and then pulled aside the curtains to look out the window. The street was empty.

She walked through the rest of the house, looking in the bedrooms, the closets, and under the bed.

Is anyone there? she called again. The sound had not only been in her head. She was sure she'd heard something. The bookend hung in her right hand; her knuckles still white with the intensity of her grip. The silence enveloped the whole house, sealing her in. She suddenly felt as though the air had been sucked out, leaving her in a vacuum without light or sound.

It was time to get out.

Mary grabbed her coat, which was hanging over the back of the chair. Her keys in the pocket jingled, which made her panic. Leaving the bookend on the dining room table, she dashed for the front door.

There was a standing mirror hanging under the coat hooks, a present from the previous owners. Mary saw her own frightened face in the glass just before she saw the shadow looming up behind her.

She lunged at the door and scrabbled like an animal at the bolt, but her fine motor skills were overrun by fear. The bizarre shadow was coming up behind her on swift, silent feet.

The last thing Mary saw, reflected crazily in the mirror like a funhouse nightmare, was her lonesome birthday candle, sitting on the cake. The flame flickered on an air current. Mary started to scream, wishing she'd called for help or run away sooner, wishing that wasn’t alone in the new, empty house, wishing that she'd blown out her last, lonely birthday candle.

In a terrible instant, the shadow produced a hand. Something wicked glinted in the darkness—a long, narrow blade.

Mary's scream was cut short.

CHAPTER ONE

Special Agent Eve Hope walked quickly through the halls of Quantico. Her heart was pounding as the last text she received from her partner flashed through her mind.

I know about Red Onion.

Call me when you're ready to shoot straight.

She'd never called.

This morning Deputy Director Pliny, Eve's boss, had summoned her abruptly to a meeting at 8:00 in the morning. Melborn would be there, he'd said. The stern gravity in the Deputy Director's voice, even over the phone, had thrown a deep scare into Eve. There was something gravely serious waiting for her.

This was it, she suspected. Melborn had reported her, aired her dirty laundry to Pliny, finked on her. Her career was finished.

Eve took a deep breath, steadying herself, and dawned her mask of professionalism as she entered the office.

Sit down, Hope, Pliny said as soon as she was inside. We have a new case, and it's off to an unsettling start. His voice was gruff, and he was tapping a steady tattoo with two fingers on a folder. Or was it two folders?

This wasn't the hell-storm of confrontation and dismissal she'd expected. Eve looked over at Melborn, concealing with an effort the shock that jolted through her. He hadn't told the Deputy Director what he knew. But why?

Melborn looked away, his sallow face an unreadable blank. Two victims, Pliny said, each found dead in their home. Spread out a few years apart. First was Eloise Placer, age 38. That was in February two years ago. She was found in the master bathtub of her home in Petersburg with multiple stab wounds. And now we've got Mary Shetland, age 36, in Whitland outside Richmond. She got her stab wounds in the garage instead of the bath.

Serial? Eve asked. She allowed herself a brief moment of relief that the meeting was not to dismiss her from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, then refocused on the new task at hand.

Seems so, the Deputy Director nodded. Each victim was found with glass beads around their wrist. It could be his calling card, a motif of some kind.

Anything in common between the victims? Eve asked.

The same glass beads on their wrists, both in their late thirties, both women, Pliny listed. Both victims were also recently divorced.

Any hint of an ex-husband trying to knife his way out of alimony? Eve asked dryly.

No, Shetland's ex-husband Nathan Winters moved to Oregon after the divorce. Needed a change of scenery, I guess. His alibi is rock solid.

What about Placer's husband?

Robert Placer died before Eloise. He took his own life roughly four months after the divorce, about a year before his ex-wife died.

I think we should take a second look at that file, too, since we're asking, Eve said, and the Deputy Director nodded.

How do we know that they were killed by the same person? Melborn piped up. His voice had an inherent whine to it. Maybe the bracelets are the tokens of some kind of club or a coincidence. We could be looking at two separate cases.

That's a good point, Pliny said. We can't discount the possibility of a second killer until we solidify a connection between the victims.

No, she said, after a long period of contemplation. One killer. The MO is too similar to admit the bracelets as a coincidence.

A little early to say that, isn't it Hope? Melborn sneered. Or maybe it's just in your blood.

Eve shot a look at Melborn and saw that his weasel-like eyes had slid to hers in a silent taunt. He was reminding her of what he knew, and his expression said she'd better keep in line. She fought down a scowl that welled up from her toes.

We're not done running down the details, Pliny said, seeming to miss the exchange. Eve felt her face smooth itself out. The Deputy Director went on, There seems to very little in common in the victim’s backgrounds, besides the fact that they were both recently divorced. But they were both similar in other ways if you look closely. Both women appeared to be in good health and had no history of mental illness. Both of them spent most of their time at home. Neither of them had a record of any kind of drug use or abuse either, Pliny said, shaking his head in incredulity. It's unusual for a serial killer to have a gap this long.

What about the victims? Any overlapping marriages or social connections? Eve asked.

No, Pliny answered. So far, there doesn’t seem to be any personal connection between the victims, but it’s too early to say for sure.

The women were both killed by a sharp object stabbing, although not by the same weapon. The wounds on the first victim clearly indicate a serrated edge, like a steak knife, while those to the second imply a long, smooth, sharp weapon, like an ice pick.

Maybe he ditched the murder weapon and chose another familiar but different weapon when he struck again, Eve said. The MO is the same, weapons aside. My gut tells me these are the work of the same killer.

Your instincts have led you well before, said Pliny. You two had better get down to the crime scene and put eyes on our newest body before the evidence gets blown around in the wind. I'll expect a full report on anything you find, with an emphasis on any connection between the victims. Why these women? And find out the story behind those beaded bracelets.

You can count on us, sir, Eve said, rising out of her chair and scooping the files off the desk.

***

Eve climbed into the passenger seat of her partner’s SUV. The vehicle was identical to her own, but Melborn insisted he felt safer behind the wheel. Eve had the reputation of being a lead foot. Eve never complained. Usually, she was happy to let Melborn chauffeur. But this time, she was dreading the long car ride. She didn't know how much Melborn really knew about her visit to Red Onion Supermax or